


spin me right ‘round

by elliebell (Naladot)



Category: Day6 (Band), GOT7, TWICE (Band), Wonder Girls
Genre: Awkwardness, Competition, Crack, F/F, F/M, Gen, Humor, JYP Nation Ensemble, Kissing, M/M, Spin the Bottle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 23:45:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19306285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naladot/pseuds/elliebell
Summary: The least sexy game of spin-the-bottle ever played.





	spin me right ‘round

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t written a pure crackfic in a long time. This is pure crack.

* * *

  
  


No one knew who first proposed the idea, and after it was all over, whoever it was kept his mouth shut out of a keen sense of self-preservation. This was wise, as he certainly would have been ostracized from the otherwise congenial community known as “JYP Nation”—a wise naming choice, actually, as any other name such as “family” or “town” would come across like a sordid soap opera when they punished this individual for his crimes (everyone was certain that it was, in fact, a “he,” because none of the girls were so profoundly stupid as to have come up with such an idea, though they all participated). But at any rate it didn’t matter, as he never confessed, though you may have your own guesses as to who would have come up with such a thing.

 

It happened after a JYP Nation concert. No one was drunk—though at least a few of them were feeling very pleasantly uninhibited—and no one had used any kind of substances other than Jae and his allergy medication, which does not have any side effects like “losing your freaking mind” listed on the side of the bottle, so we can assume that the events of that night were all undertaken by sober-minded idiots known by day as “idols.” 

 

And of course, what happened was not so very bad as to make any headlines. It was only bad enough to make it so that no one could look at each other in the eyes for the next few days, which was very unfortunate, as they had a second concert the next night, and many fans commented on the fancams something like, “was there a massive JYP Nation fight between these two concerts? No one 97-line and above is interacting with anyone else…”

 

1997 was, in fact, the birthday cut-off. This was decided after the idea was proposed; it was quite an arbitrary cut-off, which is why Chaeyoung was very indignant when Jihyo and Sana informed her and Dahyun that they couldn’t accompany them up to Got7’s hotel suite.

 

“What are you doing up there?” Chaeyoung asked, giving them a very skeptical look. “Don’t say orgy. Oh my god. Do not say that.”

 

“Gross, no.” Jihyo scoffed in disgust and pulled the thirty-fifth bobby pin out of her hair. “Why would you even think that?”

 

“You said we were too young to go,” Chaeyoung pointed out, “And you’re being really weird.”

 

“Well, we didn’t set the birthday cut-off,” Sana sniffed, raking her hair back into a ponytail. “And you can’t go.”

 

“You’ll thank us later,” Jihyo said, with an air of authority.

 

Dahyun gave Chaeyoung a look. “I’m starting to think I don’t want to go,” Dahyun said. When the other two weren’t looking, she mouthed  _ orgy? _ and grimaced in disgust.

 

At that moment someone banged on the door to their room, and Sana opened it to Bambam and Mina on the other side (who were, incidentally, already in the “pleasantly buzzed” category). “Did you chicken out yet?” Bambam asked.

 

“Of course not,” Sana said, sweeping past him into the hall.

 

“This is your birthday cut-off?” Chaeyoung said, looking at Jihyo. “I was more mature than he is right now when I was ten.”

 

“Sorry,” Bambam said with a smirk, draping an arm over Mina’s shoulders, “This party is for adults only.”

 

As the door closed behind them and Jihyo, Chaeyoung gave him the middle finger, still holding it up after the door had slammed.

 

Dahyun turned to where Tzuyu sat on one of the beds, flipping through a magazine. “You didn’t want to go at all?” she asked.

 

“No.” Tzuyu looked up. “I heard what they’re doing. It’s going to be weird.”

 

Dahyun gave Chaeyoung another horrified look.

 

“Not that kind of weird,” Tzuyu said, without looking up from her magazine.

  
  
  


 

 

Upstairs, most of the rest of idols 97-line and above had assembled in Got7’s spacious hotel suite. They mingled as they looked out the wide glass windows at the city skyline, but their voices were more subdued than usual. Two of the last stragglers, Yubin and Lim, stood just inside the door.

 

“I’m too old for this,” Yubin said, surveying the room.

 

“You want me to defend the integrity of our group single-handed?” Lim cried, trying to keep her voice down.

 

“We’re disbanded.” Yubin patted Lim on the shoulder. “You’re on your own. I’m going to go back downstairs, take a bubble bath, and put on one of those ten dollar face masks. Okay? Awesome.”

 

But as she turned around, she came face to face with Jaebum leaning against the wall on the other side of the door. “Are you scared, nuna?” he asked.

 

Something very strange happened then. Her face turned pink and her eyes narrowed to small slits and her nostrils flared. These are the first signs of what might be called “idol disease,” which is a pathological competitiveness exacerbated to inhuman levels by the the Kpop ecosystem. (Girl’s Day’s Sojin is currently rumored to be researching “idol disease,” supposedly inspired by the rampant gossip about the events of this night. “Idol disease” is, of course, not to be confused with “celebrity disease,” which is much more annoying but far less dangerous. You can review the  _ Kpop Idol Initiation Handbook, Section C: Personality Defects _ for more details on how to distinguish between the two.) 

 

To be absolutely clear: no Kpop idol can say no to a game of chicken.

 

“I’m not  _ scared _ ,” Yubin spat. Her hands curled into fists. “How dare you even say such a thing.”

 

He shrugged. “You look like you’re leaving.”

 

“Not because I’m scared!” She rolled her eyes. “You’re not even  _ doing anything  _ tonight, so why would I be scared?”

 

He shrugged again and pushed off the wall, sauntering back toward the living room. “Then I guess it won’t be a problem to stay.”

 

“Fuck,” Yubin said under her breath.

 

As she turned back around, Lim looked her (former) bandmate over and blinked, feeling very unsettled. She had never seen her unnie act like this before—she was usually so chill and unflustered. “So are you leaving?” Lim asked.

 

“You heard what he said!” Yubin gestured toward the living room, where a group of Got7 members stood huddled together. “I can’t be branded as a coward. I’ll lose all the credibility of my seniority! If I don’t uphold seniority here, all of Korea’s cultural integrity is going to come crashing down around us.”

 

“Oh,” Lim said. She wrung her hands and tried to surreptitiously back away. “Yeah, that’d be pretty bad, I guess…”

 

At that moment, Bambam and the remaining Twice members entered, giving Lim an opening to escape over to the corner where most of Day6 stood like they were hoping they could blend in with the shadows. Only Wonpil was missing from their corner, as he was busy flitting around the room, immune to idol disease by the sheer power of his cuteness. Lim envied this defense as she slipped into Day6’s circle.

 

“You’re not doing this, right?” she asked, looking between them.

 

“DEFINITELY NOT,” Dowoon whispered.

 

Sungjin clamped a hand down on Dowoon’s shoulder and shook his head. “We have to. This is about our honor,” he said somberly. Jae and Brian both nodded, their hands in their pockets and their eyes on the ground. “And anyway, it’s only spin-the-bottle.”

  
  
  
  


 

At eleven o’clock on the dot, the group assembled in a circle in the living room. Mina and Momo had been assigned the task of laying tape on the floor so as to create an indisputable segmentation of the circle to leave no doubts as to whom the bottle landed on. Jaebum brought out  _ the _ bottle, an empty bottle of high-quality wine, which he placed ceremoniously in the center of the room.

 

“We all know why we’re here,” Jinyoung said, standing as Jaebum backed out of the center of the circle and sat down next to Jinyoung. “This isn’t a game.”

 

“I thought you said it was a game,” Yugyeom interjected, looking confused and disappointed.

 

Jinyoung stared him down for a second and then sighed. “Technically it  _ is _ a game, but it’s a game with  _ stakes _ .”

 

“Which are, let me just review,” Jihyo said, raising her hand politely, “that this battle will determine the winners’ incontestable superiority as performers and idols.”

 

“Exactly.” Jinyoung smiled at Jihyo, like a teacher surprised by the performance of his student, though he shouldn’t have been—Jihyo routinely outscored him in evaluations when she was twelve. But no matter. “You are playing as both an individual and as a team.”

 

Bang Chan raised his hand. “But you only let me and Woojin come.”

 

“You should have thought of that before you made your team,” Jinyoung said pleasantly, and pointedly ignored Bang Chan as he raised his hand again. “Let’s review the rules. Special thanks to Mark for providing real-world insight into this game. Jaebum over here was trying to create rules based on just movies.”

 

Jaebum glared up at him, annoyed that he’d been singled out this way, and Mark smiled with a certain pride.

 

“Wait,” Jae said. “Why is Mark your source of insight?”

 

“He’s American,” Jinyoung answered.

 

“So am I.”

 

“We… Kind of figured you’d never been invited to this kind of party.” Jinyoung gave an apologetic shrug.

 

“Well, what about Brian?”

 

“He was in Canada,” Jinyoung answered, as if this settled it.

 

“There’s a lot of misinformation floating around here,” Jae muttered under his breath, so only Lim on his left and Brian on his right could hear. “What does he think you all do in Canada? Has he never seen  _ Degrassi: The Next Generation _ ? Jimmy Brooks, anyone? Manny Santos?”

 

“Shush, you’re gonna get us disqualified,” Brian hissed.

 

“Who is Jimmy?” Lim asked.

 

“It’s Drake.”

 

“The rapper?”

 

Jae nodded with delight; meanwhile, Jinyoung was already explaining Rule #2. Rule #1 was about maintaining ultimate secrecy about the details of this competition, so Jae didn’t really miss much, as he never wanted to share what he experienced that night for the rest of his life. And anyway, most of the people who  _ had _ been listening to Rule #1 broke it by the end of the week.

 

“Rule number two,” Jinyoung continued, “is that it has to be a  _ real _ kiss. Five seconds minimum, or you’re out and you have to exit the room. Tongue is allowed though not required. Hand action must not include any erogenous zones.”

 

“Now I’ve heard Jinyoung say ‘erogenous zones,’” Nayeon said to Jihyo, looking horrified. “I can’t go back to a time before I heard Jinyoung say ‘erogenous zones.’”

 

“Are you here to play around or are you here to win?” Jihyo demanded.

 

Nayeon gave Jeongyeon a look, which was ignored. Jeongyeon was there to win, but Sana was even more determined. She was taking notes.

 

“What does ‘erogenous zones’ mean?” She asked, tapping at her perfectly spelled Korean on her paper.

 

Nayeon groaned as Jinyoung gave a thorough and precise description, falling back into the plush carpet and sticking her fingers in her ears. To Sungjin, this looked like a sign of weakness—but it didn’t matter if Nayeon was a weak link, because the rest of Twice was there to win and his own team had  _ Dowoon _ , so he was pretty much screwed, even if Wonpil gleefully made out with the whole room. He was already certain that Day6 was going to lose this competition, which was putting him in a very grumpy mood.

 

“Are we clear on the meaning of ‘erogenous zones’ now?” Jinyoung asked, looking at the less proficient Korean speakers in the room.

 

Sana raised her hand. “So we can or can’t touch them?”

 

“Can’t. That would affect the kiss scoring. Youngjae, can you hand out the rubrics?”

 

Youngjae obediently handed out a printed series of rubrics with scoring criteria in five different categories:  _ creativity, visual appeal, sensuality, confidence, _ and  _ technique _ . Brian looked over these several times, feeling somewhat offended by the idea of scoring a kiss as onlookers. Wasn’t the point of a kiss to stimulate emotion in the two kiss participants, not the audience?

 

“You’re a  _ pop star, _ hyung,” Jinyoung said with a groan when he posed this question. “Set the moody songwriter thing aside for a second and  _ perform _ . Other questions?”

 

Nayeon raised her hand. “Can we get one skip?”

 

“No. No skips. Why do you want to skip?”

 

“I don’t want to kiss Jackson.” She crinkled her nose with disgust and looked at Jackson next to her. “He smells like shrimp chips and alcohol.”

 

“ _ You _ smell like shrimp chips and alcohol!” Jackson shot back, but she didn’t, and she stuck her tongue at him.

 

“Jackson, go brush your teeth, it’s not that hard,” Jaebum ordered.

 

Mimicking “shrimp chips and alcohol” in a whiny voice, Jackson exited the room and reappeared a few minutes later, with a broad and very fake grin. By this point, Dowoon had turned a very pale shade of gray, and was scooting his way toward the door a few centimeters at a time.

 

“Okay. Are we ready?” Jinyoung asked, looking very sharklike.

 

“No,” Dowoon said under his breath. The two Stray Kids members, on the other hand, looked very excited indeed.

 

“Nuna,” Jinyoung said, turning to Yubin, “As the oldest, would you do the honors?”

 

She stood, flinging a very haughty gaze in Jaebum’s direction, and entered the center of the circle. “I’m about to change someone’s life,” she said with a smirk, knelt down, and spun the bottle.

 

Everyone held their breath as the bottle spun wildly. It spun so fast no one could see the bottle at all, and then slower, and slower, crossing over strip of tape more and more slowly. It slowed in Youngjae’s segment, and as he turned a deep shade of red, it shuddered and stopped in Bambam’s.

 

“Yes!” Bambam shouted, leaping up with his fist in the air.

 

Yubin sighed. She really was too old for this, but she wasn’t about to lose. 

 

Without any hesitation, she crossed the circle, took Bambam’s face in her hands, and kissed him so fully and deeply he went visibly weak in the knees. After a solid six seconds had passed, she let him go. He sank to his knees and she returned to her seat.

 

Everyone began scribbling on their kiss rubrics. Bambam sat, staring into space, as if trying to process the way his life had just been changed.

 

“It only gets weirder from here,” Jae muttered, circling the number 10 in the  _ confidence _ category.

  
  
  
  


 

As Lim was next to Yubin, and conveniently the next oldest, she was next up to the bottle. She knelt and spun, and it spun and spun before landing in her own empty segment.

 

“Pass?” She said eagerly.

 

“No!” Everyone shouted. With a sigh, she knelt and spun again. 

 

This time, the bottle landed on Jackson.

 

Lim now was faced with a clear problem, which was that she had no idea how to kiss Jackson and score highly. She didn’t think Jackson was unattractive, or anything, but she was suddenly very much aware that if anyone in this circle had a cold sore, she would get it, and as she’d never had a cold sore, she didn’t want one. However, she also didn’t want to get kicked out of the room and be teased for the rest of her life for dipping out of this competition early like a coward, so she mustered up all her courage and crossed the circle, knelt next to Jackson, and marshaled his head into the right position by pulling on his hair.

 

“That was kind of hot,” Brian said when she returned to her seat a few moments later, wiping minty fresh saliva off her mouth.

 

“Shut up,” she said.

 

Now it was Jae’s turn. He plastered on a smile full of false bravado and entered the circle. Unlike many of the rest of them, Jae had never had any desire to kiss anyone there. (Well, false—he would have kissed Lim or Yubin if given the opportunity, because come on— _ Wonder Girls _ —and he figured kissing Wonpil wouldn’t be so bad. He’d let dogs lick his face before, so it would probably be something like that. Sweet, and a little gross. No telling where that mouth has been.) 

 

He crouched and spun the bottle. He stared, mesmerized, as it turned round and round the circle, and landed on Dowoon.

 

His life seemed to flash before his eyes. He was suddenly quite certain that his career would now be divided into two distinct segments: before he kissed Dowoon, and after. The thought of kissing Dowoon only inspired a mild case of dread within him, and if Sungjin hadn’t been staring him down with the fiery anger of a leader afraid to lose, he likely would have forfeited right then.

 

Instead he walked over, each step heavy as if his shoes were filled with lead, and stood in front of Dowoon. Dowoon stood up, his ears bright pink.

 

“Don’t do anything weird,” Jae whispered, and then screwed up one eye, aimed with the other, and leaned in.

 

Dowoon’s pillowy mouth did not lessen his discomfort at all. There are some things in life not to be shared with your band mates, and this was certainly one of them, in Jae’s opinion. He counted up the five seconds in his head, and then broke away in relief.

 

“As expected, poor technique,” came Jinyoung’s voice from across the circle. Rolling his eyes, Jae flopped back into his seat, and didn’t dare look at Dowoon.

 

Up next to the bottle was Brian, who sauntered forward with the easy confidence of a man who knows he’s pretty damn great, but isn’t arrogant about it. The thing that kept Brian from arrogance was his utter helplessness in love. No matter his best intentions, he always got his heart ripped out and stomped all over, which gave him a certain vulnerability that made him more attractive, and thus began the cycle all over again. 

 

He was particularly attracted to anyone who was incapable of loving him in return, and his unrequited crush of choice for the past few years had been Baek Ayeon, who had purposefully written multiple songs to communicate her utter disinterest in dating in general, and in him specifically, in addition to saying to him point blank, “I don’t have the emotional capacity to deal with you.” Brian was, of course, very respectful, and kept an intensely painful distance from her in respect for her feelings, but couldn’t quell the excesses of his own heart, and either flirted to the point of embarrassing himself or wrote very good songs about his heartache. His band was disinclined to help him move on from her, as their success relied heavily on Brian’s ability to put his pain into songs; he wrote very bad songs when he was happy and in love.

 

This spin-the-bottle game offered him a chance, however, to indulge in his own pain. So he eagerly spun the bottle, and willed it to land on the apple of his eye.

 

It landed on Jae.

 

“Oh, a company-approved couple,” Jackson said, chewing the end of his pen. Others murmured with renewed interest.

 

“Really?” Jae asked, looking slightly miserable. “Why me?”

 

Brian, currently suffering under the weight of soul-crushing disappointment, turned his attention to the one source of comfort he’d always found solace in: accomplishments and accolades. He may never have his love returned, but at the very least he could impress all his peers.

 

So he flashed a winning smile around the group, knelt next to Jae (who was currently cringing and leaning away), took his face in his hands, and went on to perform one of the most sensual kisses in recorded history, if he did say so himself.

 

He smiled as he leaned away. Jae looked horrified, but that didn’t matter as Brian was sure he was going to net some very high scores.

 

“Well, damn,” Nayeon said, her voice carrying across the circle. Everyone gave affirming nods (except Jae, who covered his face with his hands and muttered “why me?”) and Brian snuck one last look at Ayeon. She was examining her nails, her face unchanged.

 

Brian sat back in his spot, very soul-crushed indeed.

  
  
  


 

 

The next turns moved along at a snappy pace. Dowoon spun and it landed on Mina; the visual was a bit awkward but the end result was chaste and sweet, and people gave good scores, perhaps out of pity. Sungjin spun and it landed on Jaebum—their kiss was mostly aggressive and made everyone uncomfortable, and received very low scores in the  _ visual appeal _ category. Baek Ayeon kissed Yugyeom while Brian simmered with unfounded jealousy. Momo got Mina and cried out “Oh thank goodness” and then initiated a very technically impressive kiss, which got high scores in both  _ visual appeal  _ as well as  _ sensuality _ . Mina spun and it landed on Woojin, who sat like a statue the whole time, and then finally it was Jeongyeon’s turn.

 

As she walked to the center of the circle, she felt her confidence dim. This was a ridiculous competition—anyone could see it—and the competitive spirit she’d started with had faded right around the time she watched Jae kiss Dowoon. Suddenly it seemed like a terrible idea to kiss her co-workers. But as she hesitated to kneel down and spin the bottle, she happened to catch Jihyo’s eyes. The fiery determination in her leader’s hard gaze forced her to get on with it.

 

So she knelt and spun, and the bottle spun and spun, and finally it landed on Wonpil.

 

Wonpil turned pink, but leapt up and bounded over to her, smiling his encouragement. He patted her on the shoulder. Wonpil was quite possibly the nicest person she’d ever met—without a DOUBT the nicest person in this room—and if she had to kiss  _ someone _ , Wonpil was probably the best choice after her own group members.

 

She took his face in her hands and leaned in until they were close enough that she could feel him breathing and the sensation of his mouth hovering just centimeters away from her own. This was going to happen. She was going to do this. She had to—

 

She jumped backwards and threw up her hands. “I can’t do this!” Shaking her head, she darted out of the circle. “Holy shit, this company is so weird. Oh my god, I just—can’t. Won’t.”

 

“What are you  _ doing? _ ” Jihyo called, horrified, as Jeongyeon darted across the room and began putting on her shoes.

 

“You hurt his feelings!” Sana yelled.

 

As Jeongyeon yanked open the door, Sana and Nayeon grabbed Wonpil by the arms and brought him to sit between them, each with an arm looped through his. In unison they planted kisses on both his cheeks.

 

“What is happening?” Brian muttered, as a delighted little smile spread across Wonpil’s face. Sana and Nayeon went on consoling Wonpil, petting his hair and leaning their heads onto his shoulders, while everyone else stared on in confusion.

 

“Well,” Jinyoung finally said, shaking his head. “That’s, uh, one down for the count.”

 

“Our last weak link,” Jihyo said, glaring at her members.

 

“This is the scariest thing that I’ve ever done,” Bang Chan whispered to Woojin.

 

He was wrong, because Sana spun next, and it landed on him.

 

Something came over her face then as she turned to look at him—a predatory glint in her eyes that she never revealed to the camera. For Sana, cuteness was power. The more innocent and feminine she appeared, the more cheerful her facade, the less likely people would be to notice her slowly ruining their lives. But there were no cameras here, and she let her true feelings show.

 

“I bet you dreamed about this before,” she said in a sweet voice as she walked over to him, smiling all the while. “I bet at night you would imagine just what this would be like.”

 

Bang Chan, leader of the youngest JYP boy group, one-third of the next biggest idol composers, honestly didn’t stand a chance. 

 

He tried to rally. “You wish,” he said, attempting to sound macho, but his voice squeaked. 

 

Sana gave him a pitying smile, and stuck her tongue in his mouth.

 

After she had shortwired his brain, she stood up, patted him on the head, and returned to her seat, where she resumed comforting Wonpil.

 

Bang Chan had a decision in front of him, but it didn’t take much deliberating. “Yeah, I forfeit,” he said, standing up.

 

“What!” Woojin hissed. “Don’t leave me here.”

 

Bang Chan raked his hands back through his hair and tried to make sense of his world through his short-circuiting brain. “Nope. Nope. Can’t do that again. I’m out. You can stay, if you want.” He headed for the door.

 

Woojin, through otherwise quite confident, wasn’t quite confident enough to stay in a cutthroat kissing competition without his leader, and rushed after him.

 

The circle sat quiet for a moment. Jinyoung smiled. “That’s two more.”

 

 

 

 

Next up was Wonpil, who walked over to the bottle with perhaps less confidence than he’d had before Jeongyeon ran away. He was still feeling guilty about that, actually, and wondering what he might have done wrong, but he mustered up some courage for his spin, and it landed on Jackson.

 

“Oh,” he said, mildly disappointed. “But I’ve already kissed him.”

 

He didn’t notice the confused looks cross the faces of every single other person in the circle, but as Jackson jumped out of his seat, he did hear Sungjin ask, “Wait— _ when? _ ”

 

“Don’t ask if you don’t want to know,” Jackson said, and ran into Wonpil’s waiting arms. They kissed very happily and with much gusto.

 

After about ten seconds Wonpil planted a finale kiss on Jackson’s cheek and then returned to his spot. Everyone scribbled on their scoring sheets, still wondering  _ wait—when? _ But Jackson was tight-lipped, and Wonpil didn’t even notice.

 

Nayeon jumped up, smoothed out her shirt, and bounded over to the bottle. “My turn!” She spun the bottle very fast and gave it a toothy grin as it whirred around in a circle. Nayeon had a few people she was very interested in kissing, partially as a career development exercise—she did hope to book some acting jobs one day, after all—and partially out of sheer curiosity. She had her own theories about who would be the best kissers in the group. She was eager to see if Brian could successfully recreate that kiss he’d given Jae on her, and Yubin had given a great demonstration  _ right from the get-go _ . Really, Nayeon was just eager to learn.

 

The bottle trembled in slow circles, and finally pointed at Jae.

 

“Me  _ again?” _ Jae cried out.

 

Jae had not been on Nayeon’s list of desired kissing partners, but nevertheless she was determined to receive a good score, and she’d done a fair bit of kissing in her life, so she had some educated guesses on what might work for Jae. (Though if Brian hadn’t succeeded—maybe he just didn’t like kissing. What a disadvantage.) “Do you not like kissing?” she asked Jae, kneeling beside him.

 

“I like kissing!” Jae sputtered. “I don’t like kissing my co-work—”

 

Before he could really get started on his rant, she kissed him, first gently and then sliding her tongue between his lips and over his. As he was also thinking about scoring, he didn’t fight her, and all she really wanted was to get a response. Sure enough, his mouth opened into the kiss, and she straddled him for better leverage.

 

“FOUL!”

 

Nayeon pulled away in shock. “What?”

 

She turned to see Jinyoung standing up in the circle, an accusatory finger pointed at her. “I said no erogenous zones—”

 

“Oh my god, I’m not even touching him.”

 

“Yeah, there’s at least a few inches of free space there,” Brian said, leaning back to eyeball an estimate of the space between Nayeon’s crotch and Jae’s.

 

“Not if he gets excited—” Jinyoung yelled.

 

“I want to go home,” Jae said. “Sungjin, can I go home?”

 

“No.”

 

“She’s not touching him,” Jaebum said, confirming Brian’s estimate by lying flat on the ground and staring across the circle into the empty crotch space triangle. Jinyoung gave a frustrated shrug of his shoulders, and sat back down. Nayeon grinned, stood up, and leaned back over to pat Jae on the cheek.

 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” She asked, grinning.

  
  
  
  


 

Meanwhile, downstairs, the uninvited Twice members and a few of the Stray Kids members were playing Uno.

 

“Oops, you’re not invited,” Chaeyoung sang under her breath, and gave Jisung a Draw Four.

 

“Seriously?” Jisung asked.

 

Chaeyoung shrugged and blew him a kiss. Note that this kiss was not anywhere in the realm of the kind of thing that was happening upstairs. This kiss was a cheeky way to communicate her delight in playing the game well, and was not taken as flirting in any way beyond a friendly, normal kind with no competitive strings attached, because everyone in the room was still young enough to be mostly sane. The 97-line birthday cut-off did have some logic to it, actually, but it was retroactive—the youngest members of Got7 were 97-line, after all, and they had lost their grip on normal behavior somewhere around the time Yugyeom discovered people would cheer for him if he humped the floor.

 

“Uno,” Tzuyu said.

 

At that moment the door burst open and Jeongyeon rushed inside. She came to a halt just inside the room, looking at the circle and blinking. “What are you doing?” She asked.

 

“Playing a game?” Dahyun said.

 

Jeongyeon closed her eyes. “Ugh,” she said. “I never want to play games ever again!”

 

“Uno,” Changbin whispered.

  
  
  


 

 

Back upstairs, Jihyo had just begun to kiss Yubin.

 

She was quite enjoying herself, even if she was aware that Yubin was coaching her along with her lips—this was one area where Jihyo didn’t have much training, but she was a quick learner, as she’d always been. Yubin’s hair was tickling her face, though, so she reached up to brush it away and, without thinking about it, let her fingers linger on Yubin’s ear.

 

“Foul!”

 

This time, it was Sungjin who was standing up in the circle, pointing at Jihyo’s hand on Yubin’s ear. Jihyo froze in her exact position, determined to prove she was doing nothing wrong. “What?”

 

“That’s an erogenous zone!” Sungjin yelled.

 

“Her  _ ear?” _

 

Now everyone was staring at her hand on Yubin’s ear.

 

“Come on, that’s a foul—” Sungjin said.

 

“Maybe don’t bring your own weird kinks into a group game, Sungjin!” Nayeon said.

 

“Maybe shut up, Nayeon!” He shot back.

 

Jihyo moved from her spot and turned to face the group, putting her hands on her hips. “This is so unfair. No one started calling foul before now—you’re only doing this because we’re girls—”

 

“No one’s calling foul because you’re girls!” Jaebum said, standing up as well to better make his point. “We’re calling foul because you are getting dangerously close to breaking the agreed-upon rules—”

 

And then all the group leaders were arguing at once. While this was happening, Mark stood up quietly, stretched, and began walking toward the door.

 

“Where are you  _ going?” _ Jinyoung yelled out.

 

Everyone stopped talking and turned to stare at Mark. He shrugged. “I dunno. I’m bored.”

 

“You’re  _ bored,”  _ Jaebum repeated.

 

“Yeah. I’m gonna go watch a movie or something.”

 

“Can I come?” Youngjae asked.

 

“No!” Jinyoung yelled, but Youngjae was already halfway to the door. Mark gave a wave of his fingers, and then they were gone. Jinyoung put his head in his hands. “We were doing so well,” he muttered.

 

The leaders resolved their fight by concluding that ears did  _ not _ count as an erogenous zone; however, Jihyo was fairly certain Sungjin’s words had cast a shadow over her scores, and she glared at him for the rest of the round.

 

The remaining kissers spun and executed their kisses at a rapid pace. Jackson kissed Sana, which received unanimous 10s in  _ confidence _ . Bambam kissed Jinyoung, looking disappointed and saying, “You’re hot and all hyung but like, you’re  _ you.” _ Yugyeom kissed Jaebum; Brian sang “Focus on Me” in an annoying falsetto the whole time. Jimin, when she saw the bottle had landed on Jae, simply said “I’m out” and left while her former ASC co-host sighed with relief. Jaebum kissed Brian, with a much better result than when he’d kissed Sungjin, possibly because Brian continued to sing “Focus on Me” before and after the kiss, thereby stroking Jaebum’s ego.

 

And then, at long last, it was Jinyoung’s turn.

 

He had  _ absolute confidence _ in himself for this competition. He knew his co-workers well enough to count on the fact that they would all break eventually—the only person who could have matched him kiss for kiss in confidence and technique was Suzy, but as she wasn’t here, he knew his reign would stand uncontested, just as long as—

 

The bottle stopped spinning and landed on Jae.

 

“Why me,” Jae whimpered. Sungjin leapt out of his spot to clamp two encouraging hands on Jae’s shoulders.

 

Jinyoung’s lip curled slightly. Jae was—what was the right word for it—uncool beyond comprehension? That didn’t even encompass everything Jinyoung thought about Jae. That his gangly, awkward dancing had ever gotten airtime on Korean television was insult enough, but add into that that he was the centerpoint of his group’s most successful company-sanctioned ships AND that his idiotic humor had earned him an outsize social media presence—there was just no JUSTICE in the world of entertainment. Once they started letting dweebs like Jae into the system, did the word “idol” really have meaning anymore? 

 

But the rules were clear, and even though Jae was trying to inch his way out of the circle like the coward he was, Jinyoung wasn’t going to be beaten like this. His hands clenched into fists. He took a deep breath, and charged forward.

 

Five seconds of kissing later, Jae pushed him away. “Who the hell goes  _ tongue first _ ?” he cried.

 

Jinyoung shrugged. “What? You didn’t like it?”

 

“Your tongue was just coming at me like ahhhhhhh.” Jae waggled his tongue out of his mouth and then grimaced. “Is this a thing? Am I weird for thinking lips come first, then tongue?”

 

“You  _ are _ weird,” Jinyoung agreed.

 

“Why are you giving him a high score?” Jae cried, leaning over to look at Lim’s paper.

 

“For confidence! I gave him a low score for visual appeal—”

 

“Then why are  _ my _ scores so low?”

 

“You didn’t even do anything! How am I supposed to score you if you just sit there frozen—”

 

“He went in  _ tongue first _ —does no one else think that was weird?”

 

Jinyoung returned to his seat, feeling very smug indeed.

 

That was, until Jackson basically shouted, “Dude, do you have a boner?”

 

Jinyoung flushed. “No? It’s the shape of the pants, you idiot—”

 

But on either side of him, Jaebum and Yubin leaned forward to get a better look at his crotchal area, and Jaebum looked back at Jackson and nodded, smirking.

 

“No I don’t!” Jinyoung said, trying to play it smooth and slowly turning redder.

 

“Can I quit now?” Jae begged.

 

“We need to CHANGE SEATS!” Sungjin yelled, looking at Jae and feeing very worried.

 

And so everyone got up and moved to a new place in the room. (Bambam, for his part, catapulted himself into Jae’s empty seat and wouldn’t budge, staring at the bottle with gleeful anticipation.)

 

“Well… I’m gonna go now,” said Ayeon, as she yawned and made her way out of the room.

 

“But why?” Brian asked, dismayed. She ignored him, and left to join the Got7 members in watching a movie.

  
  
  


 

 

And so the second round began. Jae watched the bottle with great trepidation. Yubin spun first—and it landed on Momo. He watched them kiss and gave high scores out of gratitude as much as anything else.

 

Jackson spun and it landed on Nayeon, who cried, “ew, no!”

 

“I brushed my teeth for you!” Jackson protested, and kissed her. Their scores were mediocre.

 

Nayeon spun and it landed on Jihyo. She executed this kiss much more happily.

 

Now Jae was starting to actually feel hopeful. Sure, the bottle hadn’t landed on Bambam yet—but maybe,  _ maybe _ he could get through this game, earn the esteem of his label mates, and not have to kiss everyone in his own band. That would be truly a relief. It was all Jae could hope for, really. He thought longingly of giving up, but even he wasn’t totally immune to idol disease, and couldn’t stand the thought of losing at something so extraordinarily stupid.

 

Jaebum’s spin landed on Jinyoung, and yet somehow Jinyoung ended up as the dominant player in the kiss, which had a level of sexual tension that exceeded the norm, as they had been playing to the crowd for years.

 

Jihyo’s spin landed on Sungjin; she cruelly caressed his ears for the whole kiss, and he was very red when he sat down.

 

Sana had to kiss Wonpil—this mostly looked weird, but was so enthusiastic that it couldn’t score very low.

 

Brian had to kiss Lim; this kiss had far more tongue involved than was entirely necessary, but Lim seemed happy enough with it. 

 

“I think I’m in the clear,” Jae whispered to Dowoon.

 

“We’re not done yet,” Dowoon whispered back, still very pale.

 

Then Jinyoung stood up to spin. For a few harrowing seconds, Jae feared the bottle would land on him again. Instead, it went halfway around the circle again, and landed exactly on the tape between Nayeon and Jaebum.

 

A beat. And then everyone started arguing.

 

“I should kiss Nayeon, and  _ then _ Jaebum,” Jinyoung said, hitting his hand in his palm.

 

“It’s clearly on the line,” Jihyo said, “which means a three-way kiss, as in all lips have to touch simultaneously—”

 

“That’s ridiculous. How would that even work?”

 

Jay decided to lie face-down on the floor and hope it would be over soon.

 

In the end, a compromise was reached that Jinyoung had to  _ attempt _ to execute a simultaneous three-person kiss and could  _ only _ kiss one and then the other if the three-way kiss turned out to be physically impossible. It was, in fact, very odd to look at, and only by sheer determination was it even accomplished. I will spare you the details; needless to say, a lot of spit was wiped off everyone’s faces.

 

Jae sat back up to watch Dowoon kiss Mina a second time. And then it was his turn again. Feeling very confident that this would be his last kiss, Jae spun the bottle. It landed on Wonpil.

 

This was very lucky, it turned out, as Wonpil had been eager to kiss Jae for quite some time (not romantically, necessarily—Wonpil just had an excess of physical affection) and subtly directed the whole kiss so that Jae didn’t have to. Jae sat down again, and rested his head on his knees. This horrible game would be over soon.

 

“Um, Jae?”

 

He felt Dowoon nudge him, and looked up. He saw the bottle pointed at him, and then Wonpil was kissing him again.

 

Next up was Lim. She spun. It landed on Jae. “Don’t worry,” she said kindly, and gave him what was (from his perspective) the only acceptable kiss he received the whole night.

 

Then Yugyeom. The bottle landed on Jae. Yugyeom’s teeth hit Jae’s really hard at the beginning of the kiss and it put a damper on the whole thing.

 

Momo spun. It landed on Jae. This was also a very good kiss which he couldn’t appreciate because all he could think about was why the stupid bottle kept landing on him.

 

Then Mina kissed Jae. Then Bambam kissed Jae. And then finally,  _ finally _ , the last player of the round stood up: Sungjin.

 

“Not me, not me, not me,” Jae pleaded under his breath.

 

The bottle landed on Jae.

 

“Why?” Jae cried out.

 

He realized that by the time this ended, he would have kissed all of his bandmates—which was horribly unfair as so many other people in the room would have appreciated kissing his bandmates more than he did—and that Sungjin was definitely going to kiss him because they still had all their members left in the game, which put them in the group lead.

 

Sungjin sat next to him and patted him on the shoulder. “It’s almost over,” he said, and planted a chaste, K-drama friendly kiss on Jae’s lips. Five seconds later, he pulled away, and Jae flopped back down on the ground.

 

“Scoring time!” Jinyoung crowed.

  
  
  


 

 

An hour and a lot of math later, they mapped the scores on a whiteboard Jinyoung had procured from somewhere—no one knew where—and then they all stood there, staring at the numbers in shock.

 

“This can’t be right,” Jinyoung muttered.

 

Everyone traded rubric piles and re-did the calculations. The numbers came out exactly the same.

 

“But  _ how? _ ” Jihyo said.

 

Hands in his pockets, Brian stepped up to the board. “It’s about averages,” he said, tapping his finger on the winner’s row. “The lowest number of kisses anyone had was three, and of the people who only had three kisses, he had the highest scores, which weighted his average a lot higher than the others who were unfairly affected by one low score, and everyone else who had more scores to level them out.”

 

“Do you mean to tell me,” Jinyoung said in a hysterical voice, “That I just lost this competition to Yoon Dowoon because none of us understands statistics?”

  
  
  


 

 

The next evening, at the JYP Nation concert, Jae ignored everyone. He played his stupid songs, he sang his stupid lyrics, and any time he walked by a label mate, he tried very very hard not to to remember what their kiss felt like.

 

Backstage, everyone was strangely subdued between sets. “I told you it was going to be weird,” Tzuyu announced to her group members as she readjusted her microphone.

 

Jihyo glowered at Yoon Dowoon, who was the only happy-looking person in the room. “It was unfair, is what it was.”

 

“What we need,” Jinyoung announced to the room, “Is a rematch. That’s right.” He grinned and held up a box. “Twister.”

 

“No!” Jae yelled.

 

 

 

 

_end_.


End file.
